


Love You Goodbye

by sharedwithyou



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Heavy Angst, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:42:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29601918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharedwithyou/pseuds/sharedwithyou
Summary: Inspired by Love You Goodbye (don't judge me) - One DirectionHis look of concern switches to embarrassed happiness. You take it in, the exact shade of pink on his cheeks, the slight wrinkles between his eyes, knowing you won't be seeing it for a while.
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Reader, Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Love You Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> So the last fic didn't end horribly so guess we gotta do this one.
> 
> Dont judge me for liking one direction. I was once a young gal with a soft spot for boy bands
> 
> Enjoy if you can handle angst!!
> 
> Xoxo Bucky

“Inquisitor?”

You see his lips moving but your ears catch nothing.

He looks so good. His hair is just the right amount of tousled, his coat is slightly off his shoulders, and his stubble is just starting to grow back after Sera shaved it off in his sleep. 

“Your worship?” You hear it for this time, but it sounds far away. Which is quite impossible since you’re close enough to see the first sentence of what most likely is a letter of proposal.

“(Y/n). Whatever is the matter?!” It’s clear now, the non glottal stop, the way the gentlest part of every sentence he makes is your name.

"Just enjoying the view."

His look of concern switches to embarrassed happiness. You take it in, the exact shade of pink on his cheeks, the slight wrinkles between his eyes, knowing you won't be seeing it for a while.

"Y-"

"Hush, just stand there and look pretty."

He rubs the back of his neck and looks away slightly.

"Hey." You step closer and press your fingers under his chin, so you're touching him firmly without forcing him to turn.

"Hi." He smiles his little smirk that he keeps for you, and looks at you sideways for a few seconds. Does he recognize the significance of this moment, or is he just being playful?

The question vanishes as he turns back to you and pulls you into him, kissing you deeply. You lose yourself in his lips, memorizing the shape of his mouth, the feel of his tongue.

"I think this is better than standing there, don't you?"

The words are fighting inside of you, the good ones and the bad, the hard ones and the soft. You say nothing, and rest your head on his chest.

He's surprised, not at your affection but at your silence. Usually you're the talkative one: ranting, joking, teaching, teasing, rain or shine. You were the one who flirted with him first, who put your heart out there for him to take or leave.

He loved you for that. And he loves you for this.

He runs his fingers through your hair and you fight every urge to cling to him, to wrap your legs around him and test how sturdy his desk is.

But you were marked.

Perhaps by divine providence, else plain old dumb luck.

As much as you'd like to shirk this responsibility, duty, burden even, you were powerless.

Is it ironic? That she who was regarded as the most powerful woman in all of Thedas, would be bound by the thing that had raised her to that height?

Perhaps that's exactly as it should be. You could choose who was emperor, who would traipse through the undisturbed Arbor Wilds, and probably who would be Divine. You cannot choose to be free.

And you can only choose what's best for the Inquisition.

These thoughts have run through your mind in circles, with no way to break through.

He sees it all on your face.

"Planning on eloping with Iron Bull are you?"

He's joking to alleviate your troubles and his tiny speck of jealousy. One of his regrets: not making a move before you and Bull had that romp together. And as selfish as it is, you hope that he will continue to have just a little bit of it. Even after tonight.

"Hey." He steps away slightly so he can put his hands on your shoulders to ground you before you spiral inside yourself. 

You are the most grounded of all of them ninety percent of the time. But sometimes it gets too much, the thousands of concerns, the voices in the throne room, the battlefield, the letters that countless birds and couriers brought. You'd get inside your own head and stay there until someone could pull you out of it all.

It's usually him. After this, though? Who knows.

But his voice draws you back, like it always has. One word, a simple greeting, it's a veilfire that illuminates the darkness of turmoil.

"Hi." He grins, always proud to be the one who could get through to you. Also at the reversal of your earlier exchange.

"Whatever is weighing you down, let me lighten your load."

You look into those brown eyes, watching them get blurry, knowing they might become that way from now until the end of this madness. Praying that it will finish before he falls into his own madness.

Right now, though, they are only blurry in yours.

"Inquisitor… are you crying?!"

The shock causes him to revert to your title, but it only serves to twist the knife in your heart, reminding you of what you are sworn to do.

"Please, say something!" He steps forward to hold you, hoping his touch will wake you from the nightmare.

You step back and put your hand on his chest solidly to stop him. His stubborn nature wouldn't normally allow this, but you've never touched him roughly before. No, not even in bed.

"I hate what I'm going to say, Cullen."

He furrows his brow. He hadn't heard of any devastating losses or defeats lately. It's unlikely even in an emergency that Leliana would tell you privately instead of calling a War Council.

"How bad can it be that you're so hesitant?" You'd always been resolute about even the worst news.

"I hate that you're going to obey me, even if you don't agree."

He narrows his eyes, but as a good soldier, nay, a great commander, says no more; only waits for your order.

"I need you to start taking lyrium again."

You want to squeeze your eyes shut to stop the tears, as one last sign of sorrow. But you at the very least owe him this much.

"Understood."

The word is succinct and emotionless. As is his expression. A blank look, almost perfectly suited to the most devout soldier that you're sending into hell. What perfects it: the edge of determination. To succeed despite any cost, especially all costs to himself.

You always knew. He wouldn't fight it, wouldn't question it. He'd devote every last drop of blood, every last shred of sanity.

Does that make it worse? That he takes it without another word?

No. There is no better or worse for sending the one you love into the claws of lyrium again.

"I'm sorry, my love."

You see that fire for a minute, as his hand reaches up ever so slightly from his side to wipe the tears off your cheek.

Instead, he turns and grabs his box to take the sip you damned him to.

You rush forward and wrap your arms around his waist, his back to you so he can't see you mouthing the words.

I was marked before we met. I can't be yours.

He doesn't turn, doesn't move in or out of your arms, just continues holding the box, waiting for your final word. 

"I'm so sorry, Cullen."

He puts the box down and for a moment your heart lifts, your impossible dream fades in, where he turns and glares at you, and says no.

He uses his hands, both free now, to pull your arms off him.

In one swift motion, he opens the box and downs the poison that had once filled his veins. That will continue to, because of you.

"I need to be alone."

You stand still and look at him.

Maybe someday he will find the humor that you'd again switched positions.

"Inquisitor."

Still you stand there, looking pretty, watching the mess you'd made for the sake of everything but your heart.

"Maker's Breath why are you still here?!"

"Let me love you goodbye."

He stiffens, not exactly in the mood after turning his back on what he'd hoped his life would be.

"I don't think-"

"I know things will change for us. Even though I'm hoping with all my heart it won't."

He sighs, and it breaks you a little, hearing the sound of defeat mix with the disappointing air and the tiresome light.

"It will."

You're exhausted from being the leader of something that's not even a thing, of your life belonging more to everyone else, hell even more to Corypheus, than to you.

"One last time, then. While I can still call you my love."

The pain written across both your faces propels you to him, pulls off his coat, and tomorrow you'll wonder if it was doomed from the beginning. If it was only you chasing him until he was too tired to put up a fight.

Tonight, you find the words that bring that fight to life.

"It doesn't have to be gentle."

As he slams you onto the desk and you dig your fingernails into his back, you hope the nicks and bruises will be the sign that you ended things right.

**Author's Note:**

> BOOHOO
> 
> evidently I have a lot of issues w Cullen too
> 
> For the record all 4 runs I encouraged Cullen to stay off lyrium and only romanced him once so I didn't know he breaks up w you if you tell him to take it again
> 
> Of course once I found out thru various DAI googling and learning, I had to write something on it
> 
> Quick poll 1: saddest line??
> 
> Hope you are all having a good weekend!! Stay tuned for more ANGSTY fics (and maybe a few fluff eventually )


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